


In The Still of the Night

by bluebell



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-25
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebell/pseuds/bluebell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Mycroft entered the house on Baker Street he could feel a change in the atmosphere already.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Still of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> My first Mycroft pov and my first Vampire fic! Many thanks to the kind anon from the concrit post who took a look at this for me.
> 
> Written for [this prompt](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/17487.html?thread=102564943#t102564943) on the kink meme: _Vampire!Mycroft walking in on Vampire!Sherlock feeding on John. He is horrified because to a vampire feeding from someone you care about is very intimate._

As Mycroft entered the house on Baker Street he could feel a change in the atmosphere already. Sunset had fallen not half an hour ago and the heat of the hot summer sun had yet to dissipate. If he had been of a romantic frame of mind he might have said the air was sultry; as it was the flat was oppressively hot, and he was already planning to berate Sherlock for not having a few windows open. What was the point of his brother keeping John around if he wasn't going to make himself useful and keep the place aired? Sherlock already allowed John far too much leeway. Despite Sherlock's initial insistence that John would simply be an aid in his experiments and would help keep his flat in order, it was obvious that he had begun to care for him. If Mycroft thought he could manage it without Sherlock finding out, he would have already parted them. However, such an action would only deepen the bond Sherlock felt towards John. It was worrying. Sherlock did have a tendency towards obsession after all. If Mycroft wasn't careful word would get out amongst the elders about Sherlock's emotional weakness towards a human and that wouldn't do at all.

Mycroft climbed the stairs quietly, avoiding the creaky fourth and eleventh steps before pushing open the door of the flat. He was a little surprised that he hadn't heard movement from above. Sherlock was generally up and about even before he was.

As soon as he entered the flat proper, Mycroft's nostrils flared at the scent of intense human arousal in the air. Only the sensitive nose of a vampire would have been able to detect it, but the smell was unmistakable.

Mycroft had only to step forwards a couple of paces before finding the source of the scent. Sherlock and John were in the kitchen turned half away from him, locked in an embrace, obviously too wrapped up in each other to hear him enter. Sherlock was standing behind John, his left arm around him, holding John tightly against his chest. His right hand was hidden from Mycroft's view but from the motion of Sherlock's arm Mycroft had no doubt that John's arousal was being encouraged by that sly hand. Sherlock's head was bent within millimetres of John's neck, his lips ghosting against the soft skin there. Mycroft held his breath, hardly able to believe what he was seeing.

"Say that I can," Sherlock murmured, his voice deep with need. "I need your permission, John."

Sherlock's right arm moved again and John groaned, the scent of lust thick in the air.

"Yes. God yes."

Mycroft swallowed a gasp as Sherlock's fangs descended and pierced the soft skin of John's neck. Sherlock was meticulously neat, not allowing any blood to spill as he drank. Mycroft's fangs tingled and he clamped down on the tug of instinct that told him to let them descend as the rich smell of blood caused his feeding lust to rise. Mycroft stood frozen, the sound of harsh human breathing and Sherlock's soft sucking loud in the otherwise quiet flat. Mycroft took a step back. He should leave, he needed to think about this. He hadn't dreamed that the unsuitable attachment had grown this strong.

"Sherlock," John whimpered, shuddering violently as that right arm started moving once more.

Sherlock withdrew his fangs from John's neck, mouthing softly at the wound as his saliva caused the two puncture marks to start closing almost immediately. His lips stayed close to John's neck, alternately kissing and licking at the marks. Then to Mycroft's growing horror Sherlock lifted his head and turned it slightly, a half smile on his lips as he looked at his brother out the corner of his eye. Of course. Of course Sherlock had known he was there all along; this was a message. Sherlock was telling Mycroft exactly how close he had become to John; was letting his brother know how things were now.

"John," Sherlock whispered, bending his head back to John's neck.

Mycroft took another step back until he was standing at the top of the stairs once more. He didn't want to see any more of this madness.

He fled the flat quickly, the cogs in his head whirring as he tried to decide how to deal with the events of the night.


End file.
